Dark Swan
by Quinn Aries
Summary: Loki x Reader. While hunting through the woods of Asgard, Loki stumbles across something very different from what he expected. Loosely based on the Swan Princess
1. Chapter 1

You leaned against a tree in the woods on the outskirts of Asgard, eyes closed in peace, your dark feathered wings folded at your back. This peace was promptly disposed of when you heard a crash through the brush. In a split second, you flew up into the tree's high branches, crouched down in anticipation.

"Brother, why do you insist I come along on these excursions?" A smooth yet clearly irritated voice asked.

"It would not be right to leave you behind, Loki. Besides, even you can't stay cooped up inside reading all day." The second voice was deep and booming, it unnerved you a little. The crashing resumed, growing fainter as you assumed the people passed. You felt the branch you perched upon begin to bend and crack with a loud crunch.

 _Oh no, oh no, oh no!_ You quickly flew up, finding another perch. But not before the branch fell into the bush and caused the receding people to stop and notice. Your internal thoughts were all a flutter, panicking at the thought of being found.

"What was that?"

"I don't know, Thor. Perhaps a squirrel? It's no matter, let's move on."

You nearly went limp with relief.

~~~

You woke in the night from where you lay under a scraggly wool blanket with a start, (e/c) eyes wide with anticipation.

"Hello. And who might you be?"

You said nothing, merely held the blanket tighter to yourself and backed against the trunk of the tree, gaping at what was possibly the most striking human you'd ever met. Not what you might find traditionally handsome, but with dark slicked back hair and very prominent cheekbones. His eyes were what caught your attention, that odd color that was neither precisely green nor blue but very sharp.

He sat across from you, leaning casually against a tree with his hands clasped behind his head. He regarded you like one might a lost pet, with curiosity and mingled concern, or was it pity? You weren't sure.

"Don't worry, my dear. I promise not to bite," he chuckled, seeing how you stared.

"Wh-who are you? How did you find me?" you asked, nervously bunching the material of the blanket in your hands.

"My name is Loki. However, you may know me as Prince Loki of Asgard. It wasn't hard to find you honestly, just retrace my steps through this godsforsaken wood."

It was then that you recalled the voices from earlier. A prince! Of all people to stumble across where you lived, it just had to be a prince.

"You heard me?"

"Quite loudly. If my _dear brother_ wasn't such an oaf, he would have realized you were hiding up a tree."

Scratch that, one prince was bad enough, but two!? You blushed, when Loki mentioned the tree.

"Why are you here then? Couldn't you be back at the palace? In bed?"  
"I can't deny I was curious," he admitted. "I rarely need more than a few hours sleep. So I came to see why you were hidden up a tree to begin with. Or in these woods. Any fair maiden shouldn't be out here alone."

You bit your lip nervously, dropping your head and letting a strand of (h/c) hair fall to obscure your face and hide you blush. You felt far from fair.

"I... I don't do well around other people."

"Why not?" he pressed.

Sighing, you pushed the blanket aside, suppressing a shiver in the cool dewy night air. You shifted where you sat and unfolded your wings.

Loki expression changed, not only was he intrigued but slightly awed.

"I've never seen an Asgardian with wings like those. May I?" Silently, you nodded. He got to his knees and moved closer to where you sat, examining the wing. The feathers were a dark brown, nearly black. They resembled that of a swan's, though much larger. He ran a hand along the top edge. You shivered again, from the cold but also the intimacy of his actions. He pulled his hand away, you immediately wrapped your wings around your bare arms. The thin dress you wore did little keeping you warm.

"Fascinating..." Loki muttered. His head shot back up, eyes alight with sudden enthusiasm. "Were you born like this? Are you an Asgardian?"

"Yes and yes. And no, no one in my family has wings. I was born a little different."

"I see." There was an uncomfortable pause. "What's your name?" he asked, changing the subject.

"(y/n)."

"(y/n)," Loki repeated, as though savoring the way it formed on his tongue. "Well, (y/n), my dear, I must return to the palace now." Before he stood to leave, he ran a hand gently across your forehead, brushing your (h/c) bangs away from your face.

"Much better," he concluded, smirking slightly.

"Farewell, Prince Loki," you whispered, watching as he walked away.


	2. Chapter 2

You knew Loki had returned soon as you heard the sound of soft footsteps in the grass. It had only been a week.

It could be no one else.

You startled and hastily shoved the book that had been cradled in your arms beneath a bush where he would not see.

"(Y/n?)"

"Y-yes?" you stammered, straightening up and wringing your hands. Your wings twitched. "Your highness?"

He strode determinedly through to the clearing, this time with a bag over his shoulder. It was made of some sort of green material. He must have a penchant for the color because he was wearing a similar shade tunic as opposed to formal armor.

He clucked his tongue in a chiding sort of way."Such formalities? My dear, I thought you would care little for titles."

"I-I um..." Your wings twitched again, a nervous flutter that matched the one growing in your stomach. "I suppose it's just proper respect..."

He snorted. "That's not important, (y/n). Not in the middle of nowhere, or among friends." He sat cross-legged in the grass, placing the bag next to himself.

You followed suit, albeit much more clumsily to make room for your wings. Then you realized something. "We're friends?"

"Of course. Why do you think I brought this?" He nudged the bag towards you. Caution gave way to curiosity, and you undid the drawstring, giving a little gasp. It was full of, well, things! Pretty things.

Peeking, you reached in and tentatively pulled out a silver bracelet with painted green beads. There was the color green again. It was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen in your whole life.

"There's more than just that. I brought a few books from my personal collection. Mostly some classic poetry, although I believe there is also a Midgardian book of children's tales and a volume on creating illusions."

Books! You only had one book. Now there were three, no four more! And beneath them a wrapped package of sweets, and some sort of (f/c) cloth. When everything was laid out, you saw that it was a cloak, a proper cloak with a shiny clasp and no rips or tears. It was thick and when you pressed a corner to your cheek, it was oh-so-very soft. You looked up and flushed red as you saw Loki staring at you with a bemused smile. You hadn't even remembered he was there for a moment, so entranced you were with the things he brought.

He liked your smile. It was genuine, which was unusual for a prince like himself where the only kinds he saw were the strained of courtiers and the daft of those hoping to win favor. When you smiled, your (e/c) eyes shone like jewels.

It had taken him a week to find the perfect time to slip away to his secret. For she was, he decided, certainly a secret and one best kept close at hand. If she was truly on her own in these woods, the least he could do was bring comforts of home. Books to pass the time, a warm cloak that would do better than that ugly falling apart mess of a blanket, sweets (the peppermints were a favorite of his). The bracelet he threw in last minute, though he wasn't sure why. Apart from a chance to see your smile.

And now you were red and nervous once more.

"T-Thank you, Loki. These are all so beautiful." You sounded almost upset, as though you didn't deserve his gifts. That might have irked him normally, but not today. Instead it set his resolve.

"You're welcome, my dear (y/n). Now, i've grown much more curious over the week. How long have you lived in these woods? How did you come here to begin with?"

"It's been a few years," you confessed, returning to your fidgeting with the silver bracelet. "I-I was told to find a place for myself, that I needed to go. Away. Really far. I'm not, umm, compatible with the rest of society."

Perhaps it was then that his thoughts turned darker. Who would kick this creature from their home? You weren't dangerous. You weren't, as you put it, incompatible. Just a shy young woman, lost and left to fend for herself, though you'd gotten along up until then.

"People were scared, I suppose." you added

"Fools will always be scared of what they don't know. That's why all fools are cowards, and all cowards are foolish. They run from what they do not wish to understand." His voice was somber, edged with a bitterness you didn't quite understand.

Loki placed a hand upon your knee. "Just know this, (y/n). Whatever they might have said, your differences only make you stronger in the end."

With that, he abruptly stood and left, disappearing into the brush.

Once he was gone, you pulled your book out from beneath the bush. On the very last page was your sketch of the prince, done with a single piece of charcoal. You ran a hand down the page's length and sighed.


	3. Chapter 3

Loki's visits soon became a regular thing. Every few weeks he would find you in your little neck of the woods, reading the books he brought you, fixing a bird's nest, or asleep wrapped in the cloak he gave you. You cherished these visits and fragments of real interaction. He wormed his way into your thoughts and when you felt the sting of loneliness, you would think of his next appearance.

That evening though, you weren't in your clearing. You sat high in the trees, hunched over you sketchbook. A plump pigeon sat on your shoulder, preening.

"(y/n)?"

The unmistakable silky voice of the prince echoed below you and you started, twisting and peering down at the ground. The pigeon squawked irritably and took off when his roost so suddenly moved.

You waved shyly at Loki, who was staring up at the tree with an incredulous expression. "Hello!"

"What in Asgard are you doing up there?"

"I, um, nothing." You shifted in an attempt to obscure your book from his view. A motion that did not go unnoticed. You shrieked when with a pop, he appeared next to you on the branch you sat on. With both your weight, the branch should have snapped but you could see a greenish aura where his magic surrounded it.

"Norns, Loki! Don't do that!"

"Have I failed to mention that I am the god of lies?" His gaze was intense as he spoke, rooting you in place. You ruffled your wings, averting your eyes. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to face him.

"What is it, (y/n)? What do you have to hide?" You still didn't quite want to meet his eyes, and both yours and his fell to the book in your lap.

"Is this it? A book?" he asked, releasing you. You nodded. His hand moved to yours gripping the cover. He was cold, like his hand was carved from ice. Nevertheless, his touch only set your cheeks ablaze. You half expected him to snatch it from you, but his touch was gentle and he made no such moves. You weren't used to contact of any kind, especially not without harmful intent.

"It's nothing... nothing a prince would care to see at any rate. Just... drawings."

It was at that moment the pigeon returned, landing in your lap with a loud as Hel screech. Loki drew back in surprise.

"You just always have to be the center of attention, don't you little one?" you crooned, scooping the bird into your hands and stroking his feathery head. You peeked up at Loki through your eyelashes. "I was considering calling him Little Loki, what do you think?"

He stared a moment as if you'd just grown a second head. "That creature is not a little me." he grumbled. "Since when do you speak to birds? Can you actually make sense of all those terrible noises?"

"No, of course not." You said it like it was the most obvious thing in the nine realms. "I simply watch and learn from the way they act, the way they interact with the world. I understand them through observation, and in turn they understand me. We've come to mutual terms."

"Well then why on earth would you name it after me?" It was funny how affected he was that you named the little bird after him.

"Well he's a very vain creature, always preening and assured of his own appearance." Loki scoffed. You continued. "He's very vocal when it comes to getting my attention, and he may disappear for a while, but he always returns to me." The bird definitely understood, from the way it was cozying up to you, making soft cooing noises and leaning into your touch.

"That's ridiculous, (y/n)." Little Loki turned and sent him the evil eye, or as much disdain as a bird can muster, before exploding off into the air again with a shrill caw.

"I think someone's just upset at having a new rival," you giggled.

"I am certainly not rivals with a bird!"

You simply smiled knowingly and pushed yourself off the branch of the tree, into midair. Instinctively, he reached out to grab your wrist before you fell, but you simply fluttered to the ground, gazing up at him.

"Don't forget about these." You shook out your wings. "I may not be able to transport myself by magic, but I can still fly."

Loki reappeared in front of you. "And yet I haven't seen you do so."

"I can't just fly around the treetops whenever I want. Someone might see. Besides, the canopies of the tree are too thick to penetrate." You flopped to the grass, inviting him to follow. Instead of sitting across from you however, he sat next to you. You couldn't help but lean into his side a little, wings wrapping around you both.

Neither of you moved or spoke for a while, simply being in each other's presence. You were starting to drift off, before a question came to your mind.

"Mhm... Loki?"

"Yes, (y/n)?" His voice was soft, and it filled you like a lullaby.

"How will I know you've gone if you ever go away?" You didn't want him to leave, but the fear still nagged at the back of your mind that one day he would simply stop visiting. You would wait for centuries, only to realize at the very end, he wasn't coming back. That you would go back to being utterly and entirely alone.

He stroked your hair comfortingly, and your eyes started to shut. "Never worry about that, (y/n). I won't be leaving."


	4. Chapter 4

"You seem to be in high spirits as of late, my son," Frigga remarked one morning when Loki strode by her in the hall, giving him pause.

He had been in a good mood lately, though it was none of his her business.

"Is there something you require of me, Allmother?" he asked stiffly.

Her eyes twinkled and he could have sworn if he squinted, that there was a hint of mischief within them. "Not today, my son. I'm just happy to see you are well. Especially after..." She trailed off, and he was easily able to pick up.

"It's fine. After all, Thor is the eldest. He will make a strong king." He almost felt like he had to choke the words out. Thor was an oafish brute, not a king. He would only lead without thinking and cared for little but his own glory.

"He will be a great king, Loki. And you will be his greatest adviser." She placed a hand on his forearm comfortingly. "With you at his side, Asgard will prosper."

His eyes softened, before he straightened again and shrugged her arm off.

"If you'll excuse me, I am otherwise engaged this morning." He walked off, head held high, yet Frigga could see that despite his aura of confidence, his heart was laden with doubt. Her favorite son needed a source of true happiness in his life, but if her speculations were true, he might just have discovered one.

"Brother!" Thor boomed, throwing an arm around Loki's shoulder. "Where are you off to? Join us in our celebration today, in honor of my coronation!"

Scowling, Loki asked, "And by 'us', do you mean Sif and the Warriors Three, or all of Asgard?"

"Not all of Asgard, no. Save that celebration until the day of." He was too busy celebrating his victory to see how disinterested his brother was in any kind of celebration.

"The answer is no." He pushed away from Thor and continued outside to the gardens.

"What do you have to do today, anyway?" he called after him. "You never wish to do anything but read and seclude yourself from everyone's company anyway."

"Maybe if there was better company to be had," Loki muttered, ignoring his protests. As far as he was concerned, there was no one in the palace worth his time.

"I want to see your drawings, (y/n)." That was how he introduced himself today.

"Hello to you too." Perhaps some of his cynical humor was starting to rub off on you.

"I'm serious." He stared you down.

"And so am I. You just get straight to the point, don't you?" A few second of a silent staring contest, then you sighed. Digging around in the bushed behind you, you produced the book. It's cover was a worn and faded (f/c). Loki sat next to you, as you flipped to the most recent page. His eyes widened. There, captured in thousands of tiny, precise strokes, was Little Loki. It was a perfect image of the bird, with his chest puffed out proudly, like he'd been posing for a portrait.

He stared at the drawing, taking in all the detail. You couldn't decipher the look on his face easily, waiting with baited breath for him to say something, anything. The suspense was not doing you a favor.

"This is very good, (y/n)," he admitted finally. "I didn't know you had this sort of talent. May I see the rest?"

"No!" You blurted, snatching the book back. Then, realizing what you'd just done, you stammered out an apology. "I-I mean, i'd prefer if... that is to say-"

"I shall respect your wishes," he said, calmly interrupting you. "Although your work is better than most i've seen. I daresay, you could make a life of it."

A life of art? That sounded wonderful, yet you were hesitant. "I don't know... I think i'd be better off here."

"Away from judging eyes?"

You nodded, fingers tapping against the spine of your sketchbook.

The rest of your visit that morning proceeded as normal. You and Loki spoke of trivial things. You read all the books he first brought and he promised to bring more. He spoke of his life in the palace, and you of your life in the woods. He departed and you returned to work in your book.

Today your focus was capturing the look of surprise he first had when meeting Little Loki, while the bird in question watched approvingly from your shoulder.

There was the sound of footsteps, and at first you thought Loki had returned again, which was strange enough. Then you realized that these footsteps were heavy and that there were more accompanying them. Fear sparked to life in your chest and you burst into the air, landing in the tree where you hid and watched, much like the first day you saw Loki.

"Are you certain this was a good idea?" A feminine sounding voice asked.

"Yes, of course! I'm curious where my brother disappears off to every few days. Might as well hunt in the meantime." This voice was thunderous, and vaguely familiar. There was the sound of a bow being drawn.

You could hear your heart pounding in your ears and it was a wonder that these intruders couldn't hear it as well. _Ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thump_

There was a faint sound beneath you, a sort of crackle.

"Over there, I think it's a bird." The feminine voice again, much quieter than before.

The branch you perched on gave way with a snap and you fell, righting yourself in the air. The panic in your chest jumped to your throat and you screeched, flying up to make a getaway, your black wings pumping frantically behind you.

An arrow whizzed by your head with a sharp whistle.

A second flew, and would have hit it's mark, piercing through the center of your left wing, if not for you twisting to avoid the first. Instead the second arrow planted itself firmly in the center of your back.

You screamed, tumbling to the earth. The world went black.


	5. Chapter 5

When Thor heard the arrow hit it's mark, he was pleased with himself. Then he heard the very human scream that followed. There was a thud and the small winged form fell to the ground before them. Sif was already running to it's side. She looked up at him with the closest thing to distress he'd ever seen on her since the time Loki chopped off her hair.

"What is it? What is amiss?" he asked, walking over to her side. He looked down to see you huddled there and he understood with chilling realization. The arrow protruded from your back. You were motionless. Already blood was pooling in the grass.

"That wasn't just a bird, Thor. We need to get her back to the palace."

With ease, he picked up your surprisingly light form and hefted you over his shoulder. "Lets go." He glanced at Sif with a face set with grim determination.

"Loki, where has Thor gone?" Odin rumbled. The golden prince failed to show up for dinner and as Loki leaned back in his seat, the Allfather stared him down. Of course he was quick to blame him for his brother being gone.

"Can't say I know. Maybe he's off gallivanting with some fair maiden?"

Odin grunted, turning his attentions from his son.

"Allfather, Prince Thor has returned!" A page announced. "He brings with him an injured maiden."

"I wasn't too far off then," Loki remarked.

Odin sent him the most fleeting of looks, before looking back to the page. "Get the healers. Then I will speak to my son." He waved his hand, a sure dismissal for all.

Loki strolling out of the dining hall, caught snippets of conversation from a pair of maids.

 _"Yes, a hunting accident."_

 _"But those wings!"_

He just about stopped in his tracks. Wings.

That could only mean...

You.

Thor hovered as you were settled onto a bed and as the healers swarmed. After being told somewhat rudely to 'get out of the way and stop obstructing the healers' he instead stood against the wall.

He could only watch in sick fascination and they laid you on your back, examining the wounds and preparing to remove the arrow. His arrow.

This was his fault.

The thought made him wince. He may be a warrior, slaying in battle, but this was different. You were innocent, or at least he assumed.

"Is she a valkyrie?" Sif asked, coming up to his side.

"I don't know. I doubt it. Valkyries are said to have angel wings, as pure as snow.

"Perhaps she is a harpy or siren." She crossed her arms. "Either way, the healers know what they're doing. Best leave them to it."

Thor watched her leave, and followed but when he reached the door, none other than Loki was on the other side.

"Thor. What. Did. You. Do?" he snarled. The look in his eyes was pure venom. He couldn't recall seeing his little brother so angry with him before.

"It is nothing, Loki." Thor said brusquely. "Sif and I were hunting and it just so happened that I mistook a young maiden in the tree for an animal."

Loki's expression flickered before it hardened into a mask of calm. He said nothing, simply pushing past a bewildered Thor into the healer's wing.

There you were, surrounded by healers. Your back was awash in blood and his stomach turned. What he'd done to you was irreversible and irredeemable. His rage could barely be contained when face to face with Thor, but now he knew, he _knew,_ the next time he saw his brother, there would be Hel.

He swiftly turned and transported himself away to his quarters. He would be back though. He wouldn't be able to stay away.

You felt horrible, like you'd eaten the wrong kind of berries and spent all night puking them back up. You felt so lightheaded and lopsided and everything was wrong. Well, almost everything.

There was a cold hand grasping yours.

Your eyes fluttered open. Loki.

He sat at your side, staring in deep thought while he held your hand. Other than him, the room looked deserted.

Wait, room?

Where were the trees? The grassy forest floor? Your home didn't have gold marble walls or windows. You shrunk a little into the bedspread and jolted with sudden pain. Loki jumped at your movements and his eyes were trained on you like if he looked away, you would disappear entirely.

"(y/n)?"

"L-Loki?"

"Yes, I am here." His grip on your hand tightened.

"Why am I here?"

His eyes hardened with something unfamiliar to you. He spoke through gritted teeth. "You were hurt and you were brought here, to the palace." He looked away and when he looked back, his gaze was softer, more vulnerable. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Truthfully? No." You chuckled and a sting of pain seized your chest. "I am glad you are here, though."

You looked around again. "If this is a palace, where are all the people?"

"I made sure they weren't around. They're all sleeping now."

When you looked to the windows, you noticed that it was nighttime. "How long was I-?"

"Three days."

You bit your lip. "That long? It must have been bad then. But i'm all better now, right?" You gave a weak smile.

Loki's expression seemed to crumble. "You will recover..."

"Then why do you seem so melancholy? I'll be fine." You tried to sit up and again, the feeling of wrongness persisted. "Why do I feel so strange?"

Instead of answering, he moved his hand from yours to your right side, and ran a hand across your wing tenderly. It sent a shiver along your spine.

"Loki, what's wrong?"

"Turn and see."

You turned. Your left wing was gone.


	6. Chapter 6

You let out a choking sob, shaking head to toe. Tears streamed down you cheeks. You couldn't breath and the room was shrinking before your eyes. Arms wrapped themselves around you tightly, holding you in place. Loki's hand stroked your remaining wing soothingly and you curled into his chest with shuddering gasps.

It could have been hours, or days for all you knew. He stayed and comforted you as best as he was able. Then the sun began to rise through the windows.

"I'm sorry, (y/n), my little swan," were his first words to you throughout the entire ordeal. "I must go." Your response was to clutch at his green, soaked-with-tears tunic harder.

"No, p-please no..." you mumbled into his chest. His hand caressed your cheek lightly. "If I could but stay here forever, I would, but I have duties to attend to. I will not let this go unpunished." He pulled you, not unkindly, from himself, and ran a hand over your forehead. Your eyelids fluttered and you felt yourself drift into sleep.

Frigga strode with determination to the healing wing. She needed to see this girl of Thor's finding herself. She'd been admitted a few days ago but only now was she awake and lucid. Speaking of Thor, he was there as well, preparing to enter.

"My son."

He stopped with his hand on the door handle. "Mother?"

"It is true that her injuries were quite severe?" She would have come at once, but her queenly duties got in the way. She only knew the most basic of details.

"Yes, and that they were my fault..."

She could see the guilt in his eyes, and understood it well. "It was not your intent to harm this girl. I only hope she will fully recover." Offering him her arm, she said "Let us speak with her then, my son."

He accepted, but when they entered, her eyes grew round. You sat, the only patient, by yourself. Your bed was by a window and you stared out of it, (h/c) hair hanging limply in your face. Your wing was folded up behind you. The other was missing.

"How is she?" Frigga asked the closest healer quietly.

The woman launched wholeheartedly into an explanation. "Thor's arrow when it struck, pierced the joint of her shoulder where her wing meets with her back. We couldn't simply remove the arrow, and when we tried our best, the results were unfortunate. Too much tissue damage and there's no way we could ever fully fix the joint. Amputation of the limb was our only choice that guarantees a full recovery without risk of infection."

Thor wasn't listening much, more focused on you. He moved to where you sat, pulling up a chair. You didn't even acknowledge his presence.

"Maiden? Are you feeling well?" You turned to face him, and he caught glimpse of your despondent (e/c) eyes beneath your obscuring hair. He cursed himself inwardly. If he had his brother's silver tongue, he would know what to say without sounding like a fool.

"I-I will recover," you shakily repeated Loki's words. "In time, i'll..." you trailed off.

"I am sorry, maiden," Thor said. "This was all my doing. I cost you much." You regarded him, not with hostility as he expected, but a sad kind of acceptance.

"But the crown will be generous," he added. "You will be given a room, all the benefits as a guest of the house of the Allfather." That offer seemed pathetic, but it was all he had to offer.

"Yes, we would love to have you with us, my dear." Frigga appeared next to him. "I am the Allmother, but you may call me Frigga. My son Thor is most regretful about the circumstances. Anything we can do to provide some measure of comfort."

"I... I just-" you started before stopping, frustrated that the words would not come to you. "I am (y/n), Allmother. Prince. F-Forgive me, but may I have some time a-alone?"

"Of course, (y/n)," Frigga said warmly. "You'll be moved to your chambers by tonight." Placing a hand on Thor's shoulder, she steered him out of the wing, granting your wish.

You were alone.

Never in your life had you seen a room so extravagant. The floors were cool marble, the walls gold and the bed looked like it was made of harvested clouds. Everything seemed huge. It was certainly a step up from sleeping in the bushes.

The woman who lead you up here was apparently your new handmaid, a slightly stern older woman with a limp and a gentle hand as she guided you. In truth, everyone treated you like a small child. You resented and relished the constant feeling of being protected, but as the sun set, your maid departed as well.

You sat gingerly on the windowsill, staring down at the green smear of your forest on the horizon.

There was a feathery thump against the windowpane.

With shaking fingers, you unlatched the window as the pigeon dove into your lap.

"Little Loki! You came to me, sweet creature." He strutted proudly up and down your knee. "How long did you follow me? You should have stayed in the woods, little one."

The bird chirruped and flitted up to your shoulder. Seeing your missing wing, he gave a small screech.

"I know..." The little bird understood to some extent, because he nuzzled himself into the crook of you neck, beneath your ear.

When you flopped onto the bed, sinking into the covers, you were willing to admit you missed soft sheets and mattresses. You nodded off, as happy as you could be given the circumstances, with the little bird curled up beside you.

Loki came and found you that way, his lips curling into a soft smile.


	7. Chapter 7

You mumbled something incoherent and shrunk further beneath the covers when you felt the weight of the mattress shift.

"(y/n)?" Loki's voice started to pull you from the dredges of sleep.

"Mmm... Loki?" You opened one eye and stared up at him. "You're here? In my chambers?" You were bleary and barely thinking straight yet that thought sparked some awareness. Your face was flushed. Little Loki, who was sitting on the pillow next to you, twittered at the prince irritably.

"Yes, Little Swan. Although not for inappropriate reasons, I assure you. I came to bring you these." In his arms were your things from the woods. The cloak, your sketchbook, and the silver bracelet he'd given you.

"Oh, oh!" You beamed, and it seemed to light up the dark room. Loki was reminded once again how much he missed that smile of yours. You were still his beautiful secret.

But no longer quite a secret.

He would keep to himself though, as much as he could, even though you were surrounded again by the society you once fled from forever.

He placed the items on the bedside. You were falling asleep again, still with that content smile upon your face, missing wings momentarily forgotten.

"Please stay this time," you murmured into the pillow, voice muffled. "You keep leaving me with those palace people, stop it you." Then, you rolled over slightly, leaving a space. How could he refuse such an offer? He had no choice, he told himself, not if he wanted to keep you happy. So he climbed in, lying atop the covers. Little Loki flew off in disgust at his pillow being taken and perched on the windowsill, preening and glaring at the interloper.

You were still shorter than him, and as he made himself comfortable, you scooted backwards again, colliding with his chest. Your head fit perfectly beneath his chin, and his arm somehow found itself draped around your waist. Your wing was folded in and tucked between the pair of you, and he marveled yet again at the softness of the dark feathers. The sweet scent of the forest still clung to you even days later.

~~~

Conflicted wasn't even close to describing your thoughts when you woke. On one hand, you were very cozily snuggled up and it was wonderful, but he was a prince! This was improper. What would you say? What explanation could you offer for your sleep deprived requests?

Even putting Loki aside, you didn't know what to think of the entire situation. The thundering prince was to blame, yet you couldn't muster the energy to feel much anger towards him. He seemed all too eager to 'make it up' to you and be done with this fiasco.

The arm wrapped around your middle tightened, pulling your closer still to the prince.

"You're thinking too loudly, Little Swan," he murmured in your ear, his breath brushing lightly against your ear. You huffed and rolled over. Before he could voice his complaints at losing your presence, you were already up and walking around the bed to the balcony.

He sat up, watching your movements. He was still in dayclothes, while you wore a nightgown from the palace. He noticed the back was ripped, much like your dress from the forest had been, to make room for your wing.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Just... admiring the view." He could hear something different in your voice, and he followed you. You stood at the edge of the balcony, gripping the railing tightly.

"Something is wrong." Not a question. His voice was soft, almost tentative. "(y/n)..."

You choked back a sob, and whirled to face him. Tears were streaming down your cheeks. "Will I ever fly again?"

It was a simple question, with a million different answers. He could lie, or promise you a thousand solutions. He could avert his eyes, he could turn away. He could sing of revenge and retribution in your name.

He, the liesmith, the silvertongue, the trickster, could do any of those.

Instead he spoke the truth.

"I don't know."

The look in your eyes was enough to break him. Pure loss, and realization. _'I will never truly be free again.'_

You sunk to the floor, wracked with grief. You felt his arms around you, picking you up like you were made of glass, and carrying you to the bed again. He set you down, but didn't join you this time. Instead, he sent you one last fleeting glance and departed, leaving you to grieve in private.


	8. Chapter 8

You could not stand this palace a moment longer!

For the first few days while you healed, you kept to your chambers, seeing no one but the maids who brought you breakfast and Loki of course. But now that your back and wing were on the mend, the eldest prince assigned you a set of guards. Ones who followed you down the halls and stayed at your door every night. This may be for your protection, you were becoming quite the story around the palace, but it felt like a way of constantly spying on you.

It was more of a prison than ever. You were miserable.

Loki was worried for you, and irritated with Thor's sudden decisions. He debated confronting his brother, but it was too revealing of his ties to you. At least he could try and console you, bring a smile to your face.

"I don't understand why." You rubbed your hands together, fidgeting as you sat on your bed while Loki paced.

"He's an imbecile. He thinks his protections are an honor. That you should be grateful and at his feet." He nearly cringed at the thought if not for a sizable measure of restraint.

"But why?" you repeated, slightly louder. When you lifted your head, your distress was all too clear in your gaunt cheeks.

"I don't know! Perhaps the Allmother put him up to it!" His pacing grew for and more frantic. "Whatever the reason, I promise you, I will take you back to your home as soon as I am able."

"Loki.

"Or better yet, i'll find a different forest for you, one further away. One where you'll be safer from hunters, one where-"

"Loki!" you interjected loudly. He whipped his head around.

You mumbled, "I appreciate it, but I need to stay."

"(y/n), you're not happy here. You need to return to your home. With trees and the animals and-"

"I CAN'T!" you shouted. "I can't do it... not anymore..." You pulled your knees up and buried your face in your skirts.

He was at your side in a split-second. "(y/n)..." He got to his knees in front of you and took your hands. You lifted your head slightly, red faced and despondent. "I promised you i'd get you to your home. I swear it by all the Nine Realms."

"It's not my home anymore. Not now. Do you know what happens to injured birds? Ones who can't fly? Who can't escape from predators or find food?" He said nothing.

"They die, Loki."

"You are _not_ going to die. (y/n). Not while I still draw breath." He pulled you down from the bed into his arms.

You stayed sitting in the floor in each other's embrace for a long time, before he kissed the top of your head and left you to sleep.

"My lady." A herald stood at your door. You blinked. "Pardon?"

"A message, my lady. From the Allmother. She invites you to tea along with the prince in the gardens."

"Oh, yes of course. I-I'd like that."

Tea with a queen. And Loki. It sounded nice. You'd barely spoken to, or even seen the Allmother. The word of mouth was that she was wonderfully queenlike and kind. You felt better than the day before, and hummed as you dressed, only frowning when heard the now familiar ripping of the back of your dress, a floaty pale green thing. One thing to say about the palace, you quite liked getting to wear something different every day.

You had a vague idea of where to go to get to the gardens and tiptoed though the halls. Those infernal guards followed, but you pretended they were not there, always ten feet behind you.

Outside, you could finally begin to breathe again, inhaling the sweet scent of the grass. The Allmother and the prince were waiting for you in a pavilion with pillars wrapped in winding lavender, a table laid with cakes.

You rounded the corner and your heart fell slightly. The prince was there, just the wrong one. Frigga sat beside him, animatedly discussing something until you appeared. She smiled and patted the seat on her other side across from Thor.

"Sit my dear." You did hesitantly. She waved away your followers.

"It's good to see you out of your chambers, Lady (y/n)." Thor seemed so out of his element, a big muscled warrior in a flowery garden having tea with his royal mother. He fidgeted in his seat a bit.

"Thank you for the invitation," you mumbled. "Was there something you wanted to discuss?"

"Yes, dear. My son mentioned the posting of guards at your behest and I thought it might be nice to get to know each other all a little better." Frigga spoke sweetly, but her words still put you on edge somehow.

The next few minutes were all very cordial, with the Allmother asking you polite questions such as your thoughts on your rooms and the gardens and pouring you tea while Thor interjected here and there. You felt like your tense edges were being rubbed away and the tea helped. You took tip sips here and there.

"Lady (y/n), would you be interested in riding? Perhaps falconing or hunting? Many Asgardian ladies take up those kinds of hobbies." Thor realized he'd mentioned something taboo when you paled at the word 'hunting.'

"No." You bit your tongue. Was he really asking you if you liked _hunting_? After what he'd done to you! "If you'll excuse me," you said, grabbing the front of your skirts and all but running off.

Frigga watched sadly, eyes narrowing as she noticed the rips in your dress. She turned to Thor.

"My son, you need to apologize. That was not a thoughtful thing to say."

He nodded, excusing himself to chase after you.


	9. Chapter 9

"Lady (y/n)!" Thor chased after you through the gardens, calling your name. He caught a glimpse of (h/c) hair around a corner and followed that, catching up to you and grabbing your forearm.

You swiped at his hand. "Get away! Get away from me!"

"I'm sorry, (y/n), forgive me." He continued to hold you in place as your struggled to run away from him.

"Release me, now!" You whirled around and promptly slapped him. He stared after you incredulously as you ran off, a hand going to his cheek where a mark was blooming

You didn't know where to go, but anywhere was better than there. You were leaving. Spying a wall of vines, an idea came to mind. You hurried back to your room as a plan began to form.

~~~

"Little Swan, what's wrong?" Loki entered your room that night, only to find you buried in a lump beneath the covers. There was no response. Frowning, he pulled back the blankets only to find a pile of pillows and your ripped up dresses.

"(y/n)?" He called your name once, then again a moment later. Nothing.

Snarling, he started ripping around the room and began noticing certain things absent. All of your trinkets from him, a basket that had been full of apples on a side table. Shoes.

He moved then to your balcony, leaning against the railing as miserable realizations sunk in. You'd left, and he had no clue where to. The fact that you left didn't surprise him, you hated being trapped here. He couldn't blame you, he wasn't fond of his home either. What hurt most though, was that you didn't even say goodbye.

He was going after you though, to get you back, and to snap you out of this foolishness.

The (f/c) cloak Loki had given you proved useful in hiding your wing and your face. You slunk through the gardens to where you'd spied the climbing vines.

"Here goes nothing," you muttered, gritting your teeth and beginning the climb, basket of belongings tied around your waist with a silk sash snagged from a dress. It was rough at first as your feet slipped and your palms began to sweat heavily, but once you got into a rhythm, it grew easier until you sat atop the wall. You had to be at least thirty feet high here. A wave of longing overcame you as you stared out at the nighttime skies. The itch, the urge, the need to fly away was stronger now than ever.

With a deep breath, you climbed down the other side, only letting out a sigh of relief the minute your feet met with the ground once more. One last glance at the imposing towers of the palace before your pulled your hood closer and made your way to through the streets of the city.

The city was mazelike, and you struggled to find your bearings. Passing taverns lit with candles, you heard laughter and lively music and it heartened you a bit. What wasn't so heartening was the occasional drunk passed out in the dark and just waiting to be tripped on.

Now you were further from the palace, the streets were darker, and a lot sketchier. A nervous feeling began to form in the pit of your stomach.

"Ahh, lookit here! It's a pretty little lady..." A slurring, raucous voice came from behind you.

"What's the matter, pretty girl? Far from hooome?" A second voice joined in, sounding especially rasping and unkind.

You felt yourself being grabbed by the shoulders and roughly shoved to the ground on your stomach. The basket around your waist spilled it's contents and your hood flew up, revealing the messy plait of your (h/c) hair. You tried to crawl away from them, but a boot planted itself firmly on your back, driving the air from your lungs. You bit back a cry of pain.

"What's all this, girlie? You got somewhere better to be?" The sour stink of the man's breath reached your nose as he bent down and forced your chin up.

"D-Don't touch me, or it'll be your head," you threatened, your voice quivering slightly.

"Oh, it'll be my head, will it? Well I think a pretty thing like you might be worth it, eh?" He released your chin, letting your head fall back to the rough stone of street. The other man removed his foot, but then your cloak was ripped away.

"We found us and even better prize than I thought, it's the bird girl!" one of them exclaimed.

"You mean Thor's little hunting accident? The prince's bitch!" He whooped excitedly. You bit your lip, holding back tears. What that what they all thought you were?

"You know what this means...?" There was a pause.

"Yeah, we gotta..."

There was a sudden pounding of horse hooves in your direction. You prayed for the rider to notice you, and the pigs who forced you to lie unseeing in the streets waiting to be fucked.

"Boss!"

"What have we here, gentlemen? Perhaps something you should have alerted me to?" This third voice was quiet and oily, yet held some measure of commanding presence.

You were being picked up and carried over a shoulder. Black spots dotted you vision and everything was blurry. You heard some words about a meeting and a command, slurred in your mind as you fell unconscious.


	10. Chapter 10

You were rudely awakened to the sounds of loud clicking noises. With a start, you moved to sit up, hitting your head atop something hard and cold. You were cramped up, and there were bars in your face.

You were in some kind of cage suspended above the floor, with barely enough room to move, and none to stand. When you shifted, it rocked uneasily. You shivered with fear and chill, realizing you were dressed in some kind of loose fitting white dress that draped over one shoulder, leaving room for your wing pressed firmly against your back. With a whimper, you realized the clicking was of approaching shoes.

"It's good to see you awake, Pet," and oily, slightly accented voice came from below you.

"P-Please! What am I doing here?" Your voice pleaded for understanding.

"Look around, Pet. Of my menagerie, you are surely the finest."

You could not see him beneath you, but you could see the room. The rounded silver ceiling, and the other cages, a multitude of them. There were animals. A few bilgesnipe, great striped cats, a greyish creature with a single horn, and more you did not recognize.

"I-I am not a wild beast," you protested, gripping the gold bars of the cage tight enough to hurt your hands.

"On the contrary, you are quite possibly the wildest I have seen in some time." he crooned, moving to a chain on the wall on the far side of the room. He was thin to the point of looking quite unhealthy and his reddish brown hair was quite wild. He looked himself like some kind of wild creature.

Your fear was palpable, soaking into the very air of the room.

"Why? Oh, god, please... Can't you just let me go!?" you begged.

He placed his hands behind his back, leering up at her, infuriatingly statue-like. "You'll be released eventually. In the days to come, perhaps even within a fortnight! I shall make many sales. You'll make quite the gem to any household collection."

He was planning to sell you!? You let out a sob, retreating as far back into the cage from the man as possible. You never even noticed when he left.

One thing was certain, your worst fear had come true. Freedom, even the illusion of it, was gone.

~~~

All Loki had found in his search for you was your basket. That was when he knew you'd been taken by someone.

Inside the basket, which was laying to the side of a road, were all the things you held most dear. You would never let them be discarded so easily.

He sat in his room with heavy curtains drawn, staring at the basket that sat innocently enough on the table. He exhaled, putting his face in his hands and pulling at his hair in distress. He needed to stay calm.

Thor and the whole palace knew that she was gone, but not the circumstances, nor of Loki and the lost basket. He himself had sent out palace guards thrice and even went with them once, scouring the city for you. This was to no avail.

There was a knock at the door.

Loki didn't even bother to lock his door, or answer it, so he wasn't surprised when his oaf of a brother cautiously entered.

"Loki, I need your assistance in finding the girl, (y/n). Can you track her magically somehow?"

"Do you think I haven't tried that already!?" Loki shouted at Thor, waving a hand and accidentally sending him flying backward into the door with a loud crack. Thor was yet unfazed.

"You seem much more upset than I would think. You barely spoke to the girl, yet you look as though you haven't slept or eaten these three days past."

"How unusually perceptive of you," Loki said through gritted teeth. "Get out."

"And you are avoiding the question," he noted. "Methinks there are things you'd rather not say of the girl."

Loki bit off a note of a guttural laugh. "What else can I say? She is gone somewhere off-realm and I cannot trace her there. Heimdall cannot see her either. She is likely dead," he concluded harshly.

"And yet you seem so stressed for (y/n). Do you even care, or are you just upset that your magic will not help you best me in finding her?"

"I LOVED HER!" he screeched, clutching his head. "I care more than anything! And she left in the middle of the night without so much as a goodbye. See that basket over there? That was everything she ever owned in the world. I found it to the side of the road that night, abandoned. She is dead or worse, all because she could not bear to stay in this godsforsaken place any longer!"

To say that Thor was taken aback was an understatement. He'd never seen Loki quite so distraught before, and over someone he thought he cared so little for. He moved over to the table and the basket, gingerly looking through. He noticed the bracelet with the emerald beads. It was an obvious token from his little brother.

"She is off realm, you say? Then we'll just have to search the other nine realms."

"Yes, searching all of the nine realms will be as easy as checking off a list," Loki muttered, though there was a hint of his old self buried there, a glint of that sly humor. He stood, determined, and prepared to tear the realms apart if he had to.


	11. Chapter 11

Sleep was difficult crammed within these bars, you did manage eventually though, and woke to yet another surprise. The chain that suspended you in the air was being loosened and you hit the ground with a clang that echoed, alarming the other animals, particularly the cats who hissed and recoiled.

The rescuer was strange to you; a broad shouldered, middle aged woman with sunken eyes and a face that seemed well made for sour expressions.

"I was told to fetch you," was all she said as she produced a key and yanked you out of the cage, scowl deepening when you stumbled. Your legs were wobbly and weak. "Come on, don't make me drag you, Feathers."

She pulled you into a tiny room with no windows, a cot in one corner, and a tin bathtub filled with steaming water. You could hardly resist the urge to jump in, clothes and all. But you would have to... You blushed, but the woman hardly cared, and had already started to 'help' you strip, with rough and unkind hands.

The hot water was a blessing, and despite your shyness and uncertainty, you sunk in and let out a little sigh of satisfaction.

Oh, how good it felt to be clean. The woman produced another dress from where it lay on the cot, just like the one you'd discarded moments ago, and you sat on the cot, letting your wing fan out as the water droplets drip, drip, dripped onto the mattress. The woman stared you down disapprovingly.

"So this is what had him so worked up, huh? A scrawny little gutter girl with a wing?"

"I don't know why i'm so important all of a sudden," you mumbled. "He said he was... That I would..."

"Be sold to the highest bidder? Yes, yes. Don't worry, Feathers. He'll make sure the buyer is trustworthy. He won't stand his pets be killed, it's in the sale contract."

The woman briskly picked up the tin bath, exiting and leaving you in the tiny room.

The doors were locked. You checked.

There was nothing that would aide in your escape. At least you weren't in the cage anymore, but you missed the company of the animals, even the smelly bilgesnipe.

The woman came and went as the days passed only to bring baths and food, as well as the occasional snippy sentence. She gave no information as to what was going to happen to you. It was ridiculous and you felt like you were going mad, utterly mad with no one but this sour and unwelcoming woman for occasional bitter company.

A week later perhaps, your captor was back, and another man was with him. This one was regally dressed with a mustache that didn't hide his crooked teeth. You pressed yourself into the corner, eyeing them nervously. None made a move towards you, but instead they stood in the doorway.

"Ahh. So this is her. You didn't mention that she only had the one wing," he commented, regarding her critically. "What about endurance?"

"Moderate."

The stranger with the crooked teeth approached you at last, despite your feeble attempts to push him away. He grabbed your chin, turning your head one way then another. He tried to pry open your mouth so see if any of the teeth were rotted, like you were a show horse. You bit down on his fingers and he yanked his hand back, cursing under his breath.

"Not a well mannered scrap, is she?" he complained, flexing his stinging fingers.

"I am here! And I am not some object you can speak of like a product to be bought and sold! You are evil!" you hissed, backing away from them again, crossing your arms protectively.

Needless to say, this little outburst won you few favors and the man with the crooked teeth was gone, hopefully never to be seen again. You'd been shoved back into a cage in the menagerie as punishment, though not the cramped birdcage thankfully. No, you were placed next to the large catlike beast. Was this what Midgardians called a tiger? No, a leopard. It was sleek furred and spotted, though it was thin and looked as though it too had been punished, whipping welts showing through thinning fur along it's back. It didn't move to attack you but skulked and regarded you warily with brilliant orange eyes.

You held out a hand to it, and it slunk forward, sniffing at the extended limb, stiffening when you stroked it's muzzle. It was a she, and one unused to a gentle touch. But a beautiful creature nonetheless. The captor seemed to have a penchant for beautiful things, and most of the animals here held some measure of exotic beauty (except for the bilgesnipe).

"It's okay, it's okay," You whispered gentle encouragements to the cat, and an little thrill of unexpected joy struck you when she let out a low, growling purr.

She was a fighter, defeated and languishing in this tiny cage when she should be free to roam the wilds. You felt a sort of kinship with her, and the thought turned your mind to Little Loki, the scrappy little bird who never failed to lighten your spirits, and of course that turned your thoughts to Loki.

You hugged the torso of the leopard for comfort, burying your face into her warm fur as you cried. For your wings, for your freedom, for the man you missed, and loved, like Hel.


	12. Chapter 12

Out of all the nine realms, Thor and Loki went to Vanaheim first. It seemed a fitting place to start, and at the very least there were many gods there who practiced divination. Perhaps one of them could tell Loki where you'd gone even if you weren't here.

No such luck.

They went to everyone with any sort of powerful position looking for answers they could find, and nothing.

The only hint they got was a diviner crone who could only see that you were alive, and waved a knobbly walking stick at them threateningly when they were dissatisfied with her answer, sending them off.

Midgard. No, if any god was there, word would have spread. Besides, every inch of Midgard was seen by Heimdall.

Alfheim? Also a no. The light elves were quite elusive and distrustful of outsiders, and if you were there, they would have sent you back to Odin with an angry threat tattooed on your forehead.

Helheim, Jotunheim, and Niflheim were off the table by default, if you were alive. You would never be able to last the days you had so far in any of those realms with their hostile nature.

That left Svartalfheim. The dwarven realm. That was bad. Dwarves were not welcoming at the best of times, and rather violent at their worst. Their alliance with Asgard was solely based on the ores they mined and the magical weapons they crafted, and that was tentative at most.

"Thor, I will be doing the talking," Loki insisted as they made ready to travel across the Bifrost.

"Yes, I know, brother. As long as your sharp tongue doesn't get us killed, you're the diplomat."

"And as long as your hammer doesn't get us killed, we'll be able to recover (y/n) easily." Loki's voice was full of it's usual cocky smugness, but your name was heavy on his lips. You were alive, and that was all to know. Very little comfort, but comfort nonetheless. Same went for the hand Thor clamped onto his shoulder in what was meant to be a gesture of brotherly concern. He was too exhausted and worried to even shrug him away this time.

The diviner's words were like a weighted stone in his mind, and with every passing day, it felt like more stones were being added to the pile. He'd gotten so little sleep, even less than he had as a natural night owl, and the bags under his eyes were so dark, that Thor noticed and insisted (ie, forced) him to sleep, threatening to have the palace healers drug him.

It was Frigga who'd brought him out of the haze of doubt, stress and fear, entering his chambers where he sat alone.

"My son, you must rest," she told him, taking his hand in hers. "You cannot find this girl as you are slowly killing yourself. No matter how much she means to Thor and yourself, that of which I cannot say. I will not lose you and her both. She will be saved."

It was that day that Loki broke down, confessing through tears all the stress and paranoia, the love he felt for you, and his absolute terror. As he spoke, shedding the heavy stones in mind, she held him like he was a child again, scared of the nighttime dark of his own chambers.

Now, as the rainbow bridge pulled them to Svartalfheim, he was ready. Unaware of the small bird that followed them.

They landed in a field. Well, it was sort of a field. The grass was thin and yellow, the ground hard and dusty. The air was hot and dry.

They kept going, heading towards where the nearest settlements might be until they stopped to make camp as night fell, sitting around a campfire. The atmosphere was moody and silent, but both brother's were on a constant edge, expecting angry dwarves to ambush them at any moment.

There was a loud chirp, and Thor had his hammer held aloft, ready to charge.

At Little Loki, who sat a few feet away, trilling screechily.

"What the-?" Thor sputtered.

"Don't hurt it, that's (y/n)'s creature. It must have followed us."

"A bird? Fitting, but why?"

"It must know something about who took (y/n). Or perhaps it just recognized me. Either way, this is good. It can help us find her."

With another shrill chirp, Little Loki flitted from the ground to Thor's blond head, treating it like a nest.

Loki let out a sharp note of laughter.

And in that moment of distraction, the brothers had failed to noticed the dwarves who now circled them, with spears and hammers and waraxes pointed threateningly, poised to kill.


End file.
